


Migraine

by ElsieMcClay



Series: Voltron Fics [17]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 21:15:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12639324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElsieMcClay/pseuds/ElsieMcClay
Summary: It doesn't go away like Keith told himself it would.





	Migraine

**Author's Note:**

> Originally for me on tumblr :)

Keith seriously feels fine. There’s nothing going on that’s raising alarms, and he’s probably the most alert about that kind of stuff out of all of his friends. Except maybe Shiro but that’s not the point. 

There aren’t any aching limbs, congested noses, or problems with focusing as far as Keith can tell. He’s fine, and he’s not even lying to himself (this time bf that’s a whole other story for another time). The only thing wrong is the fact that he has to get up at 6 am, which is totally bull crap in his and every other high schoolers’ opinions. He’s sure most of his teachers feel the same way, too. 

It’s just a normal school day. Drive to school, find a place where some stupid person won’t find and try to steal his bike, go to homeroom. Hunk and his friends manage to meet up with him in the halls, but Lance and Pidge are in totally different classes, so they walk away at some point. 

By the time Hunk leaves and Keith’s gotten to his locker, his head is already starting to hurt, but it’s nothing serious. It’s just exhaustion from staying up studying for finals then getting up so early. He’s fine, and it’ll go away once he gets to class.

There’s this problem, though, with Keith’s “it’ll go away” thing. It doesn’t. In fact, in the fifteen minutes it takes from the homeroom bell to the first period bell, Keith already wants to curl up in a ball in his bed with the lights off and the blinds drawn. His brain feels like it’s expanding like a balloon, and all this commotion around him surely can’t be helping.

Just get through first period, he tells himself, sticking to the thought that it’ll probably get away. He can’t afford to miss a class right now–nor before finals. He doesn’t want to fall behind with notes, therefore fall behind with studying, causing him to fail and end up in some minimum-wage, dead-end job flipping burgers and frying fries.

Is he overreacting over missing one day? To be frank, yes, yes he is. But can you blame him? All these teachers putting the ‘star student’ label over his head, telling him he was their only hope of not being a failure of a teacher. Sure, they’re joking about it and they believe in the other students (probably) by it just makes Keith anxious to think about the fact that deep down, they might not be joking. He doesn’t want to let all of them down. 

First period. American History. He can do American History. The teacher is just playing videos at this point because there’s not a state test to do with history and the final won’t be too huge. 

Now, Keith is sure this little, not-at-all-serious headache is turning into a migraine. He keeps having to gag silently into the crook of his elbow, but he won’t go to the clinic. He won’t, and that’s a promise. He’ll be totally fine by second period. If not, that’s his free period (which is also really stupid), so he can go to the nurse’s office. 

That’s when it happens. Keith finds himself on the verge of dry-heaving–or vomiting, he can’t tell–into his own lap. He weighs the options. 

End up with vomit on his lap or go home and sleep whatever this is off. Well, uh, his choice is pretty clear, and he finds himself staggering down the tiled hall, clutching his head. How big does his brain want to be? Can his skull catch up before he actually explodes? 

Keith nearly doubles over, and his mouth is nearly flooded with saliva. He knows what’s coming, but he’s not about to leave his breakfast in the middle of the hall for all to see, so he runs–don’t ask him how–to the bathroom across the hall. Thank goodness it’s the men’s’ bathroom, but if it were the girls’ room, he’d just go about his business with a screeching girl looming behind him in the stall.

Keith almost hits his head on the toilet as his body forces him forward, and his knees ache from hitting the disgusting ground too hard. He ignores the pain due to the more important matter of his body trying to evict his stomach. 

Keith doesn’t even feel sick! It’s just this stupid migraine that’s doing this to him. He was fine, what? Less than forty-five minutes ago? 

The door of the bathroom creaks open, but Keith doesn’t care to stop himself from retching into the toilet bowl. His back really hurts from the way he’s sitting, and every fiber of his being is shaking, and he’s crying a little. 

“Hello?” Someone calls. Keith barely registers the stall door opening slowly. He figures in his haste to not miss the toilet, he didn’t lock the door. “Keith?” 

Hunk? It’s definitely Hunk. Keith would know the warmth radiating off of this big, soft boyfriend anywhere. At least he’s not totally alone in his misery now. 

Keith’s body finishes its quest to make Keith feel as terrible as possible in the least amount of time, and he spit. Hunk reaches around Keith’s face and wipes it with one of the scratchy brown ones. 

Keith doesn’t care that he probably looks a mess and smells like vomit and is just plain disgusting because the pounding in his head is back and stronger than before. 

“Come on. Let’s get you home.” Keith stands on shaky legs, and he follows Hunk out to his car. He says something about coming back to get Keith’s bicycle, notes, and stuff like that, but Keith doesn’t pay attention to his words. 

Hunk pulls into the parking lot of Shiro and Keith’s apartment building, and Keith wants to die even more now that he thinks of all the stairs he has to climb, and he’s not using the elevator in fear of it jostling his stomach again. 

He doesn’t know how it happens. He barely processes Shiro’s rapid-fire questions before he’s slouching off to collapse in his bed. 

He vaguely remembers Hunk coming in and setting a job next to his bed and Shiro taking his temperature then handing him a green pill and a bottle of water. 

He doesn’t understand why his brain is trying to kill itself with knives. It feel like every time it fails and doesn’t die, it adds another knife, showing zero mercy for Keith’s wellbeing. 

He groans and rolls over before pulling a blanket around himself and falling asleep. 

When Keith wakes up, he feels like he never had a migraine, but he’s still half asleep and a little hazy. Hunk is sitting in the living room with Keith’s book bag next to the door and his own textbooks spread over the coffee table. Keith slides into his lap and falls back asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr at elsiemcclay!!!


End file.
